


Tiny Detective Peralta

by MediumSizedEvil



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Catching bad guys and looking cute doing it, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Kid Fic, That's how we do it at age 9, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wherever there is tiny crime, there she is with her magnifying glass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediumSizedEvil/pseuds/MediumSizedEvil
Summary: “It's elementary, my dear Watson!”If you have a problem and no one else can help, maybe you can hire Ava Peralta (9), the finest Detective at Mt. Vernon Elementary School.





	1. The Nutcracker

“Hey Tanya, what's wrong?” Ava asked during recess on Tuesday.

“Someone stole my last Halloween candy!” Tanya sniffed.

Ava straightened her spine. “That sounds like a case for Detective Ava Peralta.”

“Really? You'd help me?”

“Yes, but I want...half the candy. If I find it.”

“What? That's not fair!”

Ava stamped her little red sneakers on the ground. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Alright then.”

Ava grabbed her binder from her bag and found a new tab. “This is case #5.” She licked her pencil and made a note. “So what kind of candy was stolen?”

“Seven Reese's peanut butter cups.”

“Mmmm,” Ava said. “Noice.” She carefully wrote everything down. “And when did you last see them?”

“Yesterday, before I went home. I left them in my desk, and this morning they were gone!”

“And who do you think did it?”

“I don't know!” Tanya whined.

“Did anybody ask you for a peanut butter cup?”

Tanya looked pensive. “I guess...Shawn did yesterday? He always wants everybody's candy.”

Ava nodded. Shawn was a notorious glutton. “So he is our primal suspect,” she deduced. “Let's go interrogate him.” She looked around the playground. Shawn was talking to Delano and Tommy, his puffy face red with excitement. Ava marched up to him and grabbed him by his shirt collar. After pushing him up against the wall she wagged her finger in his face. “Did you steal Tanya's candy?” she yelled at him.

“No!” he whimpered.

“Tell me the truth!”

“I didn't, I swear.”

Ava frowned. “Then what is your alleybi?”

“My what?”

“Where were you on the night of the...yesterday afternoon?”

“I was playing Minecraft at Jeremy's.”

Ava nodded. “I will have to conform that.”

She let go of Shawn's collar and went to find Jeremy. He was playing marbles with Felicia, and she was not pleased at the interruption. Jeremy corroborated Shawn's story though, to Ava's disappointment. “He broke a glass and sat down on the cat. My mom was really angry and he can't come to our house again,” he added.

“Poor kitty!” Felicia simpered. “I'd never sit down on a cat.”

“Oh good,” Jeremy said. “Do you like Minecraft?”

Felicia boldly asserted that she did, and Ava and Tanya left them to it. Ava updated her case file with a frustrated sigh.

“Now what do we do?” Tanya wondered.

Ava put her binder back in her bag. “We need to search the scene of the crime for clues.”

Unfortunately Miss Lacey was standing guard at the entrance to the classroom. Ava twisted one of her pigtails around her finger and thought long and hard. “Hey Danielle,” she said at last, “I saw Marcia give a friendship bracelet to Kerri-Ann yesterday. But I thought she was your friend?”

This soon created enough yelling, screaming and pulling of hair to draw Miss Lacey's attention. Ava grabbed Tanya's arm and they slipped back into the classroom unseen. Ava marched straight to her own desk and took out a mysterious box.

“What's that?” Tanya asked.

“This is my Sleuthing Kit. I got it from Tía Rosa for Hanukkah.” She showed Tanya the contents.

“That's a funny hat!”

“No it's not! That's a beanstalker.” She picked it up and put it on her head. “It's like a Sorting Hat, but for detectives.” She grabbed her magnifying glass. “Let's infestigate,” she lisped enthusiastically. She stared at Tanya's desk through her magnifying glass, looking at it from all angles, but could not find any useful clues. She tried it again with the pipe, but that didn't help either. Tanya looked at her expectantly. Ava tapped the pipe against her chin, deep in thought. She frowned and nodded gravely while looking around the classroom.

“It's elementary, my dear Watson!” she suddenly exclaimed.

“Huh?”

Ava ran up to the class schedule hanging on the wall and checked it. “Aha! The Robotics Club meets on Monday afternoon.” She quickly grabbed her binder. “So that's Adam, Benji, Cilla and Delano.” She carefully noted this down in the case file. “But Adam has tonsilinus, he hasn't been in for a week. So we can illuminate one suspect.” Then she had another light bulb moment. “And Benji is allergic to peanuts!” She made a note of that too, before absently tapping her pencil against the binder, staring at the two remaining names. “Cilla's mom makes her eat vegan, so she definitely has a motive.”

“But Cilla's really nice!” Tanya protested. “She'd never do that. And I would have given her a peanut butter cup if she asked. I feel sorry for her.”

Ava had to concur with the character witness statement. “Okay, so that leaves Delano. Hmmm, what if Shawn told him you had peanut butter cups in your desk?”

She saw Delano's jacket hanging over his chair. She suspected he hadn't worn it outside for recess because he wanted to show off his new Spiderman t-shirt. Tanya gasped loudly when Ava located a peanut butter cup wrapper in his jacket pocket, and two more on the other side. 

“Three wrappers,” Ava reasoned, “That means another four peanut butter cups should be left.”

“You're so smart!” Tanya said admiringly.

She looked inside Delano's desk. “Aha! My hypnothesis was correct!” she exclaimed.

Just then the other students poured back into the classroom, as recess had ended. 

“Ava, what are you doing at my desk?” Delano yelled.

Ava put her hands on her waist. “You stole Tanya's candy,” she firmly stated.

“No, I didn't.”

She presented him with the evidence.

“They just...jumped into my desk,” he protested.

“I don't think so. You have a right to remain silence.”

“What's going on here?”

“Delano stole Tanya's candy, Miss. You have to punish him.”

“...and then she made him clean the blackboard for a whole week!”

Amy nodded. “Good job, honey. I'm proud of you.”

“Yes, well done,” Jake agreed. “I want your report on my desk by tomorrow.”

“Jake!” Amy exclaimed.

“What? She needs to learn it's not all fun and games.”


	2. Swan Lake

One bright, sunny afternoon Ava Peralta and Ava Jeffords were walking Uncle Ray's dog Rocky in Prospect Park. As to why they both had the same name, well, Jake and Amy were stuck in a terrible stalemate after their daughter's birth (between 'JaneMcClane' and 'Theodosia'), until little Ava came to visit with her dad, pointed at the baby saying 'Ava', and thus the matter was settled. Terry didn't mind, in fact he was honored. Little Ava instantly became Big Ava, and from then on she always had a soft spot for her little namesake. Especially now in her difficult teenage years, with two very outspoken and opinionated older sisters, she got a lot of satisfaction from being looked up to as a wise old mentor by someone. “Shall we get some frozen yogurt?” she sagely suggested.

Little Ava nodded enthusiastically while pulling Rocky's leash. “Stop it!” she yelled at the dog, who was barking at some swans in the pond. The young and excitable corgi was not yet as perfectly trained as good old Cheddar, now sadly departed, had been. Also his farts were very stinky, but then, his full name was Roquefort.

As they turned a corner they suddenly came across a distraught young lady, who was running to and fro like a headless chicken, looking in trashcans and behind bushes.

“Are you alright, Miss?” Big Ava asked. “Do you need any help?”

She looked up at them and halted. “My watch! I lost it!” she exclaimed desperately.

“It's on your wrist, Miss.”

She looked down at her arm in surprise. “No, not this one,” she explained. “I bought a watch as a gift for my boyfriend, and now it's gone!”

“A case!” Little Ava excitedly wrung her hands. “Can I pleeeeeease take the lead?” she begged her senior partner. “I need the experience.”

Who could resist that adorable rookie's face? Big Ava nodded. “Okay, but I'm keeping an eye on you.” She turned to the young lady. “Don't sweat it, sister. We're here to help.”

Little Ava took off her sunglasses in a practiced move and expertly flipped open her notebook. “Let's sit down over here,” she said soothingly, pointing to a nearby park bench. “So when did you last see the watch?”

“When I came into the park I think. It was wrapped up in a gift box. Rectangular, about this size.” She roughly indicated the dimensions. “And I had it right here, in the pocket of my jacket.”

“Did anyone talk to you, approach you, or bump into you in the park?”

“No, I only saw a few joggers and a woman with a stroller, but they didn't come close me.”

“Hmmm. Did it fall out of your pocket? Is there a hole in it?”

The young lady check the lining, but everything was intact. “And it's a pretty deep pocket, it wouldn't just fall out, the box was almost completely inside.”

Little Ava tapped her chin with her pen. She wouldn't ask for help. She was the lead on this case and she was determined to do an exemplary job. She looked at the young lady next to her on the bench, and studied her jacket pocket. “Hmmm, did you sit down anywhere?”

“No, I didn't have time to....no wait, yes, I did. I had some gravel in my shoe, so I sat down for a moment to shake it out. Why?”

Ava held out her phone. “Can you put this in your pocket for me, and then take off your shoe?”

She watched as the young lady bent over to remove her left shoe. The phone came up about halfway out of the pocket as the fabric of the jacket bunched up, but it didn't fall out.

“Well, it's plausible at least,” she concluded, grabbing her phone back. “Let's retrace your steps and find that bench. Where did you come from?”

Just then Rocky released an extra smelly fart, and they quickly jumped off the bench and hurriedly set off together into the woods, in the direction she indicated.

“I really need to find this watch,” she confided in them. “He always gives me such nice presents, and I just can't afford the same. But I wanted to do something special for his birthday so I saved up all my tips.”

“Oh, you're a waitress?”

“Yeah...sort of.” She looked down at her own watch. “And he'll be at the lake any minute now! I rented a little rowing boat, you know.”

“Then we'd better hurry up.”

They sped down the leafy lane together. “It was that bench!” she suddenly exclaimed. They ran over, Rocky excitedly pulling on the leash. He dove at the dead leaves under the bench and started barking loudly.

“Bingpot!”

After retrieving the gift box and checking the contents they quickly walked back towards the lake. The lady thanked them over and over again. “You're such nice girls!”

The Avas looked at each other and frowned. They were smart, capable young women, but they let it slide.

“Oh would please you do me another favor?” she continued, “And take some pictures of us in the boat on the lake, when I give him the watch?”

“Of course, no problem.”

“Just be a bit sneaky,” she laughed, “He's very shy about having his picture taken.”

“Don't worry, we're professionals,” Big Ava reassured her.

“Oh, there he is!” she exclaimed, waving to a man standing by the waterside. She ran into his arms, and they started eating each other's faces with gusto.

“Eeew!” Little Ava exclaimed.

“Oh, grow up.”

They set up their covert surveillance operation behind a large bush, and peered out over the lake as the happy couple took to the water in a small wooden rowing boat.

“Oh, I forgot something,” Little Ava suddenly exclaimed. She put on her sunglasses. “We found the watch – just in time,” she said in a low voice. “How was that?”

Big Ava nodded. “You're learning fast.” She snapped some pictures of the smiling couple in the boat, flanked by two swans bending their slender white necks together in the shape of a heart. “Perfect.” She zoomed in on their happy faces, oblivious to anything in the world but each other. “Awww, adults can be so cute.”

Then they watched the young lady reveal her precious gift, and registered the delighted surprise on her lover's face. He took off his sunglasses and dabbed his eyes.

“Haha, look at his dumb mug,” Big Ava said, “she'll want to frame this one.”

“You know, doesn't he remind you of someone?” Little Ava pondered.

“Yeah...he does look kinda familiar, but I can't put my finger on it.”

“Maybe daddy knows him?”

“Well, we've got a picture, I'll just put it through image search and then we'll know.” Big Ava quickly cropped his face like a pro and fed it to the web.

“Oh, mama...”

“Ava, let's call the feds.”

“...and then they arrested him and they gave us both ice cream!”

Uncle Ray took off his glasses and nodded. “Jeffords, Peralta, excellent work.”


	3. The Sleeping Beauty

“Mommy pulled a double shift,” Jake said as he tied his shoelaces in the hallway. “So don't wake her up.”

Ava nodded. “I won't. Did you read my report on the Chuck E. Cheese fraud, daddy?”

He looked up. “Oh yes, I think you might be onto something there. I'll pass it on,” he promised.

“And I think Mr. Roberts is a crackhead.”

“What? Who?”

“My French teacher. He has all the symptoms.”

Jake grabbed his jacket. “We'll talk about this later. I have to go now, sweetie.” He quickly kissed her and ran out the door.

“Au revoir!” Ava called after him. Then she went to her bedroom to engage in her favorite hobby: spying on the neighbors. She grabbed her binoculars and notebook and installed herself in front of the window. She'd already discovered that Mrs. Davies was having an affair, but that was not a crime unfortunately. She made a few notes about the comings and goings in the neighborhood, but could not detect anything suspicious as usual. Ava often thought they should move to a more interesting place.

She grabbed her binder to review her open cases: some graffiti, two missing cats, and a stolen bicycle. She was taking the graffiti very seriously - because of the broken windows theory - and she spent some time poring over the crime scene photos again, trying to interpret the tags with all the zeal and quiet desperation of a classical linguist attempting to decipher the elusive Linear A script from the Middle Minoan Period, like Uncle Kevin.

She turned back to the window with a sigh and peered through her binoculars. Nothing was happening. She was already deliberating if she should give up and finish reading The Stranger Beside Me instead – mommy had promised they'd go to the library later – when something caught her eye: frail old Mrs. Carnell tripped and fell on the sidewalk, her groceries spilling everywhere.

Ava grabbed her leather jacket and ran outside. It was important to do good deeds to build trust in the community. She quickly, but safely, crossed the road and helped the old lady get back on her feet. She smelled really bad. Like old people, but worse. “Are you alright?” she asked. She was fully trained in First Aid.

Mrs. Carnell nodded. “Yes, dear,” she said in her high, shrill voice. “I'm quite alright, thank you.” She pushed her glasses back on her nose. “I just need to get my things.” She shook her head. “Oh dear, they're everywhere.”

Ava looked around, taking stock of the dispersed groceries. She noticed some had rolled into the street, and a car was coming around the corner. She grabbed her whistle from her jacket and ran into the street. She whistled loudly and motioned for the car to stop. When the driver obeyed her command she quickly grabbed the three oranges and a tin of cat food from the road. Then she waved Mrs. Davies and her lover through with a smile.

She returned the groceries to Mrs. Carnell and helped her pick up some onions, a tin of beans, a pack of incontinence pads, tea bags, a loaf of bread, mousetraps, rat poison and a roll of digestives from the sidewalk. Unfortunately the bag of frozen peas was unsalvageable; it had split open, spilling everywhere, so she made sure the sidewalk was cleared of the tiny green slipping hazards. As she brushed the mushy peas into the grass she suddenly noticed a broken slab of concrete sticking out.

“Mrs. Carnell,” she asked, determined to get to the bottom of this case, “Do you know what you tripped over?”

The old lady pointed to the loose slab and shook her head. “They should really do something about that.”

Ava nodded. “I'll follow up with the council. You go home and make yourself a nice cup of tea.”

“You're such a darling girl.”

Ava took a few pictures of the loose slab situation and went home to file the report immediately, before anyone else got hurt. Then she went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a donut. She didn't really like donuts, but she supposed she would just have to learn to eat them.

While munching on the glazed confection she stared at the pictures of the missing on her wall: Coco the calico cat, Mr. Tibbles, the gray tabby, and Schwinn, the bicycle. “I will get justice for you,” she promised. She really hoped the poor cats hadn't been run over, because that was surely an awful way to go (and for a bicycle as well).

The feline fugitives suddenly reminded her of the tin of cat food she'd picked up from the road. Mrs. Carnell didn't have a cat. Was she eating cat food? That was very disturbing, a sign of either serious hardship, or insanity. Then she suddenly remembered she'd heard her muttering something about vermin as she handed back the rat poison. She looked at the pictures of Coco and Mr. Tibbles, and cold shivers ran down her spine. Could it be...? Ava knew that animal cruelty was a very worrying signal. Mrs. Carnell might grow up to be a serial killer. She took a large swig of caffeine. She knew she had to act quickly to protect the lives of other innocent victims. The suspect might be mixing more poison into cat food right now, so she swiftly formulated a plan.

A little later she rang Mrs. Carnell's doorbell. The old lady opened the door, and a pungent smell immediately assaulted her. The hallway was filled with boxes and bags, and Ava preemptively diagnosed her with F 02 Hoarding Disorder (DSM-5).

“Hello dear, how can I help you?” she asked kindly.

Ava cleared her throat. “Mrs. Carnell, I would like you to review the statement I wrote for the council, please.”

“What now, dear?”

“About the loose slab of concrete,” she clarified, holding out the paper. “To make sure everything is correct.”

“Of course, dear. Please come inside.”

She politely refused as it smelled really bad. Also she wasn't allowed. “I'd rather sit on the porch,” she said sweetly, “It's so nice outside.”

Luckily Mrs. Carnell agreed, and Ava sat down gingerly on the rickety patio furniture.

“Would you like a drink, dear?” she offered.

She shook her head. No, she wouldn't touch anything coming from that house, especially not concocted by a suspected poisoner. “No, thank you. I'm not thirsty.” She pushed the council incident report across the rusty patio table. “Would you please read this and check all the facts for me?”

“Certainly, certainly.” She pushed her glasses back on her nose and studied the paper without actually reading it. “Yes, that's all fine, very good, very good of you, you're such a dear girl.”

“I hope they fix the sidewalk soon, otherwise I'll escalate this through the proper channels,” Ava promised. “We've got to look after this community together, don't we?”

Mrs. Carnell nodded. “Quite so, quite so.”

“And it really worries me when bad things happen in the neighborhood. Just the other day I saw two posters for missing cats!” She stared right at the suspect. “Isn't that awful?”

“Is that so, dear? Well I know nothing about that,” she babbled nervously.

Oh she was guilty as hell. And she was going down. Ava took off her sunglasses. “Let's cut the crap. You know why I'm here.” 

Mrs. Carnell looked at her with big, confused eyes. She was quite convincing at playing the innocent, but Ava was not so easily fooled. She put her hands on the wobbly patio table and leaned over. “I know you killed those missing cats,” she stated menacingly. “You put out cat food laced with rat poison! Admit it!”

The old lady didn't reply, only stared at her with eyes full of fright. But she would break that monster, come hell or high water. She balled up her fists in frustration and looked deep into the suspect's eyes. “Their loved ones deserve closure. I know it was you!”

Mrs. Carnell started crying softly. Good. “I didn't kill them, I swear,” she muttered.

“I don't believe you.” Ava banged her fist on the table. “You are a cold-blooded murderer! Confess!”

She held up her hand. “They're still alive,” she whimpered.

Ava halted. Her mouth fell open as a horrible realization hit her. Was she...torturing those poor animals? She felt bile rising up her throat. Maybe this was slightly above her pay grade. Then blind rage took over. “Where are those cats!” she demanded.

“In the house,” the old lady admitted, sniffing and shaking. “I was having a...small rodent problem, so I took the gray one in. And then I took the black and white one too, so he wouldn't be lonely.”

Ava breathed a sigh of relief. “Their names are Coco and Mr. Tibbles,” she said through gritted teeth. It was important to humanize the victims. “And you will release those kitties at once! Their families are worried sick about their fate.” She stood up to her full length and straightened her spine. “You let them go right now, or there'll be hell to pay!”

Mrs. Carnell nodded and shuffled inside while Ava sternly looked on. She opened a hallway door, and Coco and Mr. Tibbles shot out the front door with lightning speed, desperate to get home. 

Ava nodded at the old lady. “You will get your just deserts,” she promised, “In this life or the next.” For now it was punishment enough to remind her of her imminent mortality. There was only one more thing left to do. Ava put on her sunglasses. “Hasta la vista, bubbe.”

“Were you playing outside, honey?” Amy asked, drinking a cup of coffee in her dressing gown. “Did you have fun?”

Ava nodded. “Yes, it was noice. How do you get someone committed to a psych ward, mommy?”


	4. Coppélia

Ava Jeffords, or 'Ravan' as she preferred to be called whilst going through a Goth phase, sternly looked over her dark, dark sunglasses. “So what do you think, Peralta?”

Ava flipped open her notebook and expertly clicked her pen. Then she looked around the room. “Two victims, one male, one female, Caucasian, early twenties. Both have gunshot wounds, no signs of decomp yet.” She grabbed her magnifying glass and knelt down to take in the details. “I count three bullet wounds on the female. One in the head and two in the chest.” She noticed some bruising in the neck area and pointed it out with her pen. “The female also shows possible signs of strangulation. Autopsy will reveal whether the hyoid bone was broken or not.”

Ravan nodded.

“The male has one entry and one exit wound to the head, execution style.”

Ravan frowned. “You're jumping to conclusions here. Focus on the facts, please.”

Ava nodded, suitably chastened, and started searching for the shell casings. “I count five. No more, no less.” She tapped her pen against her chin. “Ah, there's another bullet hole in the wall over here.” Then she pointed to a small caliber handgun on the floor next to the male vic. “The murder weapon is still at the scene, if ballistics can confirm a match that is. It should be bagged up and dusted for prints.”

Next Ava checked all the exits. “No signs of forced entry, all doors and windows are locked.” She took another careful look around the room. “The overturned chair and the broken flower pot suggest some kind of struggle took place here. Perhaps a domestic dispute.” She stared intently at the grisly scene in front of her. “Aha!” she suddenly exclaimed. “The red lipstick on the male victim's collar doesn't match the female's pale pink shade.”

Ravan pursed her lips. “So what is your preliminary assessment, Peralta?”

“Based on the available evidence, and pending the results of the coroner and the lab techs, my initial theory would be a murder-suicide.”

Ravan nodded. “Well done.”

Ava looked up from the dollhouse. “Great!”

“You passed, with flying colors,” she added magnanimously.

“Girls!” Terry called, “I made pancakes!”

“Yum!” Ravan said gothically, and they quickly made their way to the kitchen.

Ava expectantly held up her plate. “You know, Barbie should have dumped his sorry ass years ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: [Dollhouses](http://deathindiorama.com/index.html) are really used to teach forensics.


	5. La Sylphide

“So then they had a big fight,” Ravan explained, “But in the end they just decided to date him both.”

Ava grabbed a piece of toast. “Okay. And what does Nikolaj think of that?”

Ravan shrugged. “I dunno. I guess he's fine with it? He can't tell them apart anyway.”

It was Saturday morning, and Ava was spending the weekend at the Jeffords' while Jake and Amy were away on a romantic mini-break to Saratoga Springs.

“So what have you got on at the moment?” Ravan asked.

“Actually I'm working a private job right now. Investigating a suspected cheater.”

Ravan nodded thoughtfully. “And what does that pay?”

“Good candy.”

“Nice.” She pushed her plate away. “So...what do you wanna do? Pick some locks?”

“Hmmm, toit.” Just then Ava got a message on her phone. “It's from Tanya, my assistant,” she explained. She grabbed her bag and coat. “I've been outsourcing some of the grunt work; research, surveillance, you know, the boring stuff. She just let me know the target is moving. Do you want to come along?”

“Sure.”

“Remember, discretion is of the essence here,” Ava said as she dug a a floppy hat and dark sunglasses out of her bag.

“Of course. Later dad!” Ravan yelled as she grabbed a baseball cap from the hallway. “So tell me about this cheater.”

Ava closed the front door with a sigh, and they hurried along the road. “Well, my client Felicia says that her boyfriend Jeremy has been very withdrawn and secretive lately. They used to play Minecraft every Saturday, but now he won't anymore and he can't give her a good reason. He still tells her he loves her all the time, but she's been having doubts. Now I know he's definitely going somewhere, but I haven't caught him yet. One time I lost him on the subway, and another time it was past my curfew. So I hope we'll catch him now.”

Ravan nodded. “So you think he's seeing some other floozy on the sly?”

Ava shrugged. “I don't know. I also found out that his parents got divorced and his dad lost his job recently, that could also explain a lot. Maybe he's just depressed.”

“The true course of love never did run smooth,” Ravan darkly quoted from Sparknotes.

Ava nodded sagely. The Jeffords were always well-versed on this subject.

“Oh, Auntie Rosa let me borrow her nunchucks and taught me some really sick moves,” Ravan informed her. “I'll show you later.”

“Cool cool cool.”

They met up with Tanya at the subway station. “He's over there,” she whispered. “Don't look.”

Ravan touched up her black lipstick while checking out the target in her compact mirror. Then they followed him at some distance as he got on the subway. Two stations later he left the train and they quickly sprinted after him, but unfortunately they soon lost him in the crowd on the platform.

Ava stamped her foot. “Damn!”

“Split up!” Ravan ordered. “You go there, I'll go this way, and Tanya, take that exit.”

They all ran in a different direction. Ava sprinted up the stairs and left the station. She scanned the street for Jeremy's black beanie, but to no avail.

Then she got a message from Tanya: 'found him!' with a slightly blurry picture as proof. They quickly reconvened and started following him at a safe distance.

“Noice work, Tanya,” Ava said. “I'll give you an extra jelly bean.”

“Mmmm!” she replied enthusiastically. Her parents were dentists.

They continued to sneak after an oblivious Jeremy, and a few blocks later they saw him enter a rather dilapidated house.

Ravan frowned as she looked at the overgrown weeds in the garden. “Well one thing's for sure, she ain't no classy bitch.” 

The house looked deserted, like nobody had lived there for a while. Ava noticed light coming from some small, high windows in the wall of the garage. She walked down the little side lane between the houses and climbed up on a garbage container. She helped the others up, and then she spat on her fingers and carefully cleared a spot on the dirty window to look inside. She saw large vats filled with liquids, men in white suits stirring boiling kettles, and in the corner was Jeremy, sitting at a small table operating a pill press. He looked absolutely miserable.

Tanya gasped. “That's his dad, over there. Poor Jeremy.”

Ravan nodded. “We've got to save him. Tanya, you ring the doorbell to create a distraction. Make up a story. A long story.”

Tanya steeled herself. “Okay.”

Ravan nodded. “Alright, then I'll-

“Okay guys, stop right there,” Ava interrupted. “We're in way over our heads. Time to call the adults. This isn't some Enid Blyton novel.” Ava grabbed her phone. “Hola Tía, Shabbat shalom. I need the SWAT Team.”

Jake nodded. “Good call.” He pulled Ava on his knee and fondly ruffled her curls. “And that's how I know you're going to make an amazing cop one day.”


	6. Don Quixote

“Dad! Dad!” Ava exclaimed, “I found the Zodiac Killer!”

Jake looked up. “What? You...what!”

“April fools!”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Giselle

“...and I want a penguin piñata and challah French toast. Bye mom.” Ava hung up the phone and sighed. “Such a fuss, birthdays.”

Ravan nodded. “Just one year closer to death.”

They were standing in a corner of the gym, decorated with even more cobwebs than usual for Halloween. Ava spied a ghoulish teacher and crossly crossed her arms. “Mrs. Martin won't let me write my book report on In Cold Blood,” she complained. “But it has literally merit! Mommy said so.”

“She's just too lazy to read it herself,” Ravan said with a shrug. “Tell your mom to have a little talk with Mrs. Martin, in uniform. Or ask her if she's still breeding those Rottweilers.”

Ava gratefully filed that information for future reference. “Oh, and I found out my clarinet teacher is a registered sex offender living under an assumed name.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, but it was only public urination so I let it slide.”

“Hmmm.”

“It's hard enough to find one who teaches jazz properly.”

Meanwhile Ravan was busy messaging her boyfriend Esteban, whom she'd met at FBI Summer Camp in Quantico. Unfortunately he lived in L.A., so she had another good reason to look fashionably morose all the time. “It's hell, living without him,” she sighed dramatically.

“What circle of hell are we talking about here?” Ava wondered. “Purgatory? Jalapeño? El Al Customer Service?”

“He went to Space Mountain without me!” she wailed. A Wookiee came up and asked her to dance, but she haughtily refused. “I wish he was here. We could have gone as American Gothic.”

Ava looked thoughtful. “So you're really good at like, flirting, right?”

“Huh, why? Who do you want to flirt with?” Ravan smiled. “Tell me everything, girl! Is your heart full of agony and sorrow? Who is your Prince of Darkness?”

Ava sighed. “Ugh. Nobody. It's for a case. Marcia, that's Cruella over there, asked me to make some moves on Benji, that ghost, to see if he's faithful to her. I almost said no but she's paying in Toblerone.”

“Understandable. Okay, watch this.”

She casually strolled up to the Wookiee and smacked his behind. “Let's dance, fluffybuns.”

He looked surprised. “Oh, but I just heard you have a boyfriend in L.A.?”

“Never mind him.” Ravan carelessly tossed her dark locks. “I'm ready to mingle.”

Ava steeled herself and walked up to her target, seductively twirling her Wednesday Addams braids. “Hey, are you a friendly ghost?” she asked.

“Eh...yes?”

She grabbed him by the bed sheet and pulled him onto the dance floor. He didn't seem to mind, on the contrary.

Ava tried to gather up her courage. Why was this so much harder than any other case? “Can I tell you a little secret?” she whispered at last. “I've had a crush on you for a long time. But I know you're with someone else, so it's hopeless,” she sighed dramatically.

He grabbed her a bit tighter through his sheet. “Well, I wouldn't say that...”

“No? You think I stand a chance?” she said, coquettishly turning her head like they did in the movies. “But she's so much prettier than me...”

“Ava, what are you doing!” Felicia, the Wicked Witch of the West, fumed greenly.

“Eh, I'm just...”

Felicia turned to the ghost. “Jem, what is going on here?”

“Sorry Flee,” he said, “I'm breaking up with you. I like Ava better.”

“Nooooooo!” Ava exclaimed. “I was just...It's not...” She frantically looked around. Yup, wrong ghost. 

Everyone around them had stopped dancing to stare at the scene.

“Just piss off,” Ravan told the Wookiee, “I'm done with you.”

He shrugged and removed his hairy head.

“Esteban!” she exclaimed.

“Mommy, I really messed up,” Ava confessed.

“That's okay, honey,” Amy said, holding her tight. “You just have a little cry, and then you get right back up.”

Jake nodded. “That's the Peralta way.”


	8. Cinderella

“Bye mom, love you!” Ava hung up the phone. Mommy was in Chicago for a week-long training course on international cyber crime. Totally dope. Daddy had promised to take the week off to do cool things together during the school holidays, but now Aunt Genevieve was in the hospital and he had to cover for Uncle Charles. So he'd scrambled to find a day camp for her at the last minute. Unfortunately the only available place left was at Miss Tremaine's Charm School for Young Ladies.

“People rely on me, Ava,” Jake said as he rang the bell. “You understand that, right?”

She nodded.

“Now please try to enjoy yourself, and I think mommy would really like it if you learned some new things.”

Ava frowned. “Like what?”

“Like, I dunno, folding napkins?”

“How is that useful? How am I going to catch criminals by folding napkins?”

Jake sighed. “You never know. You may have to go undercover as a napkin folder once.”

The door opened, and Miss Tremaine quickly ushered her inside after saying their goodbyes. “These girls are in your age group,” she said. “These are Arabella, Belinda, and Clarissa. Girls, this is Ava. Why don't you get to know each other over a nice cup of tea?”

“...didn't come on the Mayflower,” she heard Arabella whisper to her neighbor. Ava grabbed a pink macaron from the tea tray before sitting down. Yum.

Belinda cleared her throat. “So, Ava, where do you summer?”

She frowned. “What?”

Belinda let out a high, shrill laugh. “Where do you go for your summer vacation? We always summer in the Hamptons,” she explained, “Unless we go to Europe.”

“We went to Cuba last year,” Ava said. “It was awesome.”

Arabella almost dropped her tea cup in shock. “Uh, so, what instrument do you play?”

“Jazz clarinet.”

Clarissa pursed her lips. “How delightfully...ethnic.”

“And do you take French, or Latin?” Belinda inquired.

“French,” Ava stated. “But I also speak Spanish. And I'm studying Hebrew for my bat mitzvah.”

There was a long silence while Ava carelessly munched on a chocolate petit four.

“That's...fascinating,” Clarissa said at last.

“So how many languages do you speak?” Ava asked sweetly.

“Well, I...would you like a biscuit? They're very scrumptious.”

Ava grabbed three and gratefully stuffed her mouth.

Miss Tremaine glared in her direction. “Ava, please show some restraint.”

“Mrrrwfff?” she replied. Why would that fool try to talk to her when her mouth was full?

Soon enough their lessons started, on topics such as 'How to Cultivate a Pleasing Tone of Voice', 'Grace, Poise and Confidence' and 'Polite Conversation'.

Miss Tremaine looked around the room of young ladies. “Can anyone give me some examples of 'Appropriate Topics for Conversation'?

“The weather?” one girl offered. 

Miss Tremaine nodded magnanimously. “Yes, you?” she asked another.

“Complimenting the hostess.” This was also deemed very appropriate.

“One's favorite flowers,” Clarissa said primly.

Ava perked up. “Favorite serial killers!” she offered.

Miss Tremaine looked disturbed. “No, Ava, that is not appropriate,” she said curtly, without explaining why. “Now, we'll continue with 'How to Appear Interested When Men Are Talking',” she announced.

“I'm sorry, Miss, but isn't that a bit sexist?” Ava wondered. “In my experience men often have very interesting things to say.”

Miss Tremaine looked at her as if she had just grown another head.

“Really, when you think about it, they're just like us,” Ava urged. “Except a bit more silly sometimes.”

Miss Tremaine scrunched up her nose, which made her look like an inquisitive pig. “Ava, I think it would be better if you were to help out in the kitchen for a while.” The other girls started snickering loudly. “I'm sure some potatoes need peeling.”

“But-”

“Just do as I say.”

Ava sighed and made her way to the kitchen. She could call her dad, and he would be incensed and pick her up right away. But he had an important job to do, she knew that all too well. She could tell him tonight, of course, but he'd already paid for the whole week, and then he would have to find another day camp for her at even shorter notice. So she resolved not to say anything at all and just endure it as best she could. She might even learn something more useful in the kitchen anyway.

The chatty cook welcomed her with open arms and gave her a big glass of lemonade and a delicious slice of cake. So far so good. She sat down at the kitchen table, underneath which a gray Persian cat was aggressively munching kibble. Cook then proceeded to give her a running commentary on how to make some sauce called 'remoulade'. The result tasted quite good so she would have to look that up.

Meanwhile on the stove top a large pan with oil was slowly heating up. Cook cut up some pieces of codfish and dipped them in batter. When she turned her back for a moment the cat jumped on the counter and grabbed a piece of fish. “Shoo!” she yelled and tried to hit him with her tea towel. He grabbed another piece of cod before jumping down. Cook quickly turned around, knocking her elbow against the pan on the stove, which caused the oil to slosh over the edge and onto the gas burner. In a matter of seconds the whole pan was ablaze.

Ava frantically looked around for the lid. Any lid. Cook grabbed a carafe of water from the serving trolley. “Noooooo!” Ava yelled as she threw the water over the burning oil. Then the ceiling was on fire too. They both ran into the parlor.

“Everybody get out!” Ava commanded. “There's a fire!”

“Will you please calm down,” Miss Tremaine tittered shrilly.

“There's a fire!” she repeated. “Call 911.”

“Ava, please don't raise your voice,” Miss Tremaine nervously reiterated. “It's very unladylike.”

Then smoke started pouring in from the kitchen and soon everyone was running around like headless chickens. “Girls! Girls!” Miss Tremaine said. “Don't panic, don't panic. Now make an orderly line and - where is my purse? My purse? Girls?”

“Get out!” Ava yelled and pushed her into the hallway. “Where's the fire extinguisher?”

There was no answer. She quickly shepherded everyone out the door while calling 911. Then she suddenly heard a loud bang from the second floor. “Who's upstairs?” she shouted, but nobody answered. When everyone was safely outside Ava rushed up the stairs into the dining room laid out for lunch with silver and crystal. “Hello? Who's there?” She frantically looked around. Perched on a side table sat the gray Persian cat, innocently licking his paw, and on the floor lay a large porcelain vase in a thousand pieces. There was nobody else in the room.

“Let's go, we gotta go,” she urged the cat. He immediately jumped off the sideboard and hid under the table. She crawled underneath the tablecloth and tried to catch him, but he kept evading her. But she was determined to save him. It was an evil cat, but it was still a cat. When she'd finally cornered him and managed to grab him he bit her hand and scratched her face.

“Okay, fine!” Ava exclaimed at last and opened the door to the hallway to leave. But the staircase was full of fire and smoke, and she quickly closed the door again. She ran to the window and opened it. Down below Miss Tremaine and the girls were huddled together, pointing and staring up at her. Ava took off her paracord bracelet, a gift from her godmother Rosa, and unraveled the whole length of rope. She secured it tightly to the radiator and made a number of large knots at regular intervals. Meanwhile smoke was pouring into the room from underneath the door, and the cat jumped up on the window sill and started meowing plaintively.

“Come on then, you stupid animal,” Ava urged as she climbed out the window and threw down the knotted rope. He hesitated and then jumped on her shoulder, digging his claws deep into her skin through her sweater. She carefully climbed down the rope just as the FDNY were coming around the corner with blaring sirens. After she had safely reached the pavement the gray Persian jumped off her shoulder and made a quick dash for Miss Tremaine.

“Nobody's left inside,” Ava reported to the nearest fireman.

“Thank you!” He smiled his most dazzling smile at her. “You're the bravest young lady I've ever met.”

All the other girls turned green with envy.

“Hey, I know you!” Ava suddenly exclaimed. “You're Mr. November!”

“...but of course I would never date a fireman, daddy. They're just nice to look at.”

“Well that's a relief,” Jake said. “Oh and guess what? Grandma Karen just came back from Cape Cod because her hotel had a burst pipe, so you can go and stay with her.”

“Yay!” Ava jumped in his arms and tightly wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think she's got more charm anyway.”


End file.
